


Charcoal

by Ambrose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, mentions of Costia - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrose/pseuds/Ambrose
Summary: Even in the middle of a war, Clarke finds some time to draw Lexa.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tveckling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/gifts).



It had been forever since Clarke last took up a pen and paper just for the sake of drawing, for something she enjoyed. War did not leave much time for hobbies, much less for the quiet she needed in order to draw, and besides, in the chaos and the blood and the wounded to tend to, she rarely ever saw a sight she wanted to immortalise. More often than not, she had rather forget. More often than not, her talents were employed in drawing maps and strategical plans, when Raven didn't ask for her take on her latest invention. 

The only thing she drew with regularity was Lexa's war paint on her face, as it had become a ritual between the two of them, before a battle or even any important meeting, to do each other's war paint. Those were small moments where she could enjoy Lexa's proximity, and stare at her face, her eyes, like there was no tomorrow. Those were moments where she could allow herself all the vulnerability she had to bottle up once they were with others; moments where Lexa too felt vulnerable under her hands, and all her doubts transpired - the ones the Commander could not show to anyone else. 

But now, with the cold respite that the truce they agreed to for the Winter Solstice afforded them, Lexa looked all peaceful in her sleep, in their shared makeshift bed, a leg atop the covers, her face bathed in the light of the fires filtered by the tent, and Clarke just _had_  to draw it. She snuck out from under the covers, and retrieved the small sketchbook she still insisted on taking everywhere with her, and the charcoal Lexa had given her back in Polis. They were Costia's, Lexa had told her, and she still felt that mixture of pride and pain at that knowledge. That she meant enough for Lexa that she'd give her something that belonged to Costia - and that Lexa had to suffer so much - that Costia had to suffer so much - because of who she was. She knew Lexa would never really be over that pain, but she hoped to soothe it somewhat, by her own presence and her own love. 

She did not dare use a torchlight, so she settled back on the bed, sitting next to Lexa's sleepy form, marvelling at the fact that she had managed not to wake up her ninja of a lover, when a soft, mumbling voice caught her: 

"What are you doing, Clarke?"

She did not even open an eye. Clarke smiled at her. 

"I just wanted to draw you."

"You thought you could make all that noise and not wake me up?" she smiled softly, eyes still closed. "Please, I didn't become Commander by sleeping soundly." 

Clarke bent down to kiss her softly, smiling into it. "Well _I_ 've heard that _I_ commanded the Commander now," she smirked. "So can you stop moving so I can draw you?" 

Lexa pretended to give it some thought. "Depends... what do I get in return?" 

Clarke gave her another, rougher kiss before she sat back. "You'll have to wait til I'm done to find out." 


End file.
